


Delivery

by testyTypist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testyTypist/pseuds/testyTypist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A completely pointless and non-offensive day in the life of an exiled Parcel Mistress. I spend too much time writing dark and heavy things. I needed a break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> So, my brain decided that I hadn't written anything totally pointless in a long time. I had to remedy this.

In a desert, there is a mail carrier. The only mail carrier, as far as she can tell. And today, she has a very important package that needs delivering. 

She scurries over the hot, soft ground, her bare white feet moving too quickly to feel it. There is no time for discomfort. There is mail to be delivered. The mail must not be halted or slowed by worldly conditions. It is above these things. Because of that, so is she. 

The sun will set soon, and she still has yet to find her location. She wants to glance into her satchel, but she has no time to stop. She has no time to slow. 

There is a small sound coming from her bag though. She pats it reassuringly, but she is still on duty (she is always on duty) and she cannot stop to comfort her cargo. She’s very sorry, but the mail comes first. 

But, wait! What’s this in her way? 

The little mail carrier has found herself faced with a sinkhole. The ground before her has caved inwards and descends into nothingness. This is not something that she was hoping to deal with today. 

Resilient as ever, the mail carrier begins the long trek around the broken ground. She isn’t bothered by the longer walk. She is confident that her task will be accomplished. She can feel that she is so close now. The extra walking is a necessary evil that will not stifle her. She is an expert, after all, and she has delivered packages in worse conditions. 

The detour has not thrown her off track. She is sure-footed and her mind is wired for careful navigation. Even though there are no clear markings here to indicate that she is going the right direction, her intuition tells her that she is near the end of her journey. 

It is another hour before she sees the bright beacon of democracy in the barren wasteland. Can Town is in her sights. 

She rushes through the small city like a mad woman. A few of the inhabitants seem to be nodding their greetings to her, but she has no time for such pleasantries. She must see the mayor. 

The mayor is making his rounds of the town, making sure that all is running smoothly. He sees the mail carrier approaching and stops to wait for her to catch up. If not for his black face, a blush might be more easily noticed. Thankfully, he can maintain his decorum. 

The mail carrier reaches into her bag - the sacred vessel of the most precious cargo left in this broken world - and triumphantly holds out a box to him, with holes poked in the top. The mayor opens it gingerly. He knows what is inside, and is not at all surprised to see the trembling can of beans inside. 

He pats it gently on the head, to let it know that it is safe now, and sets it down with the utmost care. Another can smuggled to this safe haven, free from the tyranny of the rest of the world. Here, this poor little can will not be subject to the authoritarian rule of what is left of the monarchy. 

The mail carrier feels the deep sense of satisfaction that comes with every successful delivery. She gives the mayor another letter addressed to him and then goes on her way. Her job is never done, after all. The day is young and her bag is full.


End file.
